Craven Liberated
by Rantipole
Summary: Laurel Longbottom is known as the twin of Neville. She is the complete opposite; a trouble maker, a rebellious girl who looked up to her twin's godfather, Remus, the Marauder. When she finally sets off to Hogwarts, she'll become more of the extra to the Golden Trio, helping them in any way possible yet staying at the sidelines. UP FOR ADOPTION.
1. Prologue

"Oi! Romeo! Where art thou? Rooo-me-_OOO_!"

Percy Weasley, who had been walking briskly down to the kitchen, stopped at the last of the stairs and looked up. His friend, Elle, leaned her body half over the banister above him, so her legs lifted into the air and the upper half of her body was outstretched down the direction of the stairs. She flashed him an arch smile, her eyes glittering like the Twins', instantly putting Percy on edge.

"Just ditch the little chit, Romeo," Elle called down to him. She was still teetering dangerously back and forth over the edge. "You're going to be missing out on great party! _Especially_ under some of those pine trees Gran loves _oh so much_."

"You're too young for that, Elle."

"_Well_ then," she said dramatically, "_you're_ too young for that also!"

Even now, after years of spending time with his friend who was too similar to the Twins for Percy's taste, his first instinct was to tell her to be quiet. He huffed and rolled his navy eyes and strides to the kitchen, knowing fully well Elle was thumping down the stairs to follow him, and looked out the small diamond window above the sink. Almost all the guests were outside in the vast emerald yard of the Longbottom Manor, partying and mingling under the light-strung trees that hovered above them. Gold and scarlet streamers twirled and dived around the railings of the banisters and railings outside. At the same time that Percy looked to the pond, Penelope Clearwater, a fellow Ravenclaw Prefect in his year, looked over her friend Adrian Pucey's shoulder to stare into his eyes, brown meeting blue. She suddenly jerked her curly head back towards Pucey, like Percy never existed.

Turning back to the kitchen, frowning the smallest bit, he saw Elle snickering as she poured a molten batch of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum into the strawberry punch bowl.

"Why can't you act your age, Laurel," Percy snapped.

Her face contorted into a sneer. "Call me that again I'll make your murder look like a bloody suicide," she growled. She abruptly perked up, her eyes shifting from stormy to misty. _She's like Augusta too_, he shivered. "I will," she perked, "as soon as you start acting _yours_, not a lovesick second grader's."

She faced fully towards him and held out her hands, palms up. "Now, repeat after me," Elle mocked in a horrible intimation of Percy's teacher voice. "Penelope's an aristocrat, Adrian's an aristocrat, _I'm not_."

"I'll have you know Laurel, that she looked right at me just now," Percy informed. "And as such she knows that I exist."

Elle growled once more, but was too busy bringing the bowl outside for the guests to see to handle Percy the Muggle way. She scrunched her upturned nose when she came back in and shook her head, the frosted locks flying around her lightly freckled face. She nudged Percy sharply, her bony elbow digging into his side. "Look over there," she ordered, nodding her chin towards an area under the assorted pines. "Do you see the guy over there, with the hair that looks like it got cut and curled by a doped house elf? Do you recognize him?"

Percy sniffed. "It's rude to talk about people, Laurel," he chided. "But yes. He was Semele Lovegood's friend. Newt Scamander. He leaves moonflowers on her grave every Thursday."

"He _totally_ pulverized ole' Xeno in one of their silly book contest thingies last Saturday," she smirked, eyes glittering wickedly. "Do you think he and the lovely Semele had a torrid, secret affair? Do you think Xenophilous knew? _Is little Luna even his daughter?_"

Percy snorted angrily through his nose. "_This_ is why people think you're the next Rita Skeeter, Elle. You can't keep that small nose of yours out of other people's business."

Elle sniggered. she glanced out the window, and her playful expression turned smug. "'It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!'"

Percy was flabbergasted. "What?"

He followed Elle's line of sight.

It was as though an icy needle had pierced painfully through his chest; Penelope and Pucey were now on the grass that stood for a dance floor.

"Oh, the _arrows of love_!" Elle crowed. "By Merlin, Percy! That little Irish has punched so many holes in you. One day you're going to fold over like a slice of Swiss cheese!"

Percy scowled. He detested when she exaggerated things.

"It's pitiful, _honestly_, the way you stare in a trance with those large, baby blues. She barely even notices you! I hope that one day you'll finally get to realize—"

"Do you know what I hope for?" Percy demanded, whirling his head towards her to glare down at her threateningly. She set her chin up defiantly, as she always did when someone was challenging her. "I hope you fall in love, Laurel."

Her arched eyebrows shot up to the blonde hairline, and her peony lips tugged down at the corners. "_Excuse_ me?"

"I hope you fall in love with a boy who never even notices you, who is beyond your reach."

Elle blew through her lips, wafting Percy with a wild raspberry scent. Despite her pranking nature, she resembled a sweet-faced owl with her wide blue eyes and round face. She was built like a pixie; small hands, dainty little feet, innocently dilated eyes. But Percy knew the owlet carried cattiness in her words.

"And I hope you fall soon," Percy continued spitefully, "because I want to be there when the _great_ prankster Laurel Callidora Longbottom breaks down broken when he throws her aside like a used rag."

He immediately regretted those words. He didn't mean to say them, it was like someone else had put the words on his tongue, placed the malice to overtake his other emotions. Elle's eyes dimmed considerably and her lips pulled up to a half-hearted sneer, but she didn't snap anything back. Instead, she swung around to the porch, laughing with a fiery malevolence as the innocent people who had taken a drink from the spiked punch bowl started to lift slowly up into the air.

Augusta looked to her granddaughter with worry.

_Don't worry, Laurel_, she thought grimly. _This will all be over soon enough. Just you wait patiently._


	2. Chapter 1

Elle glanced up at the autumn light that shown down brilliantly on the scarlet train, giving it a smug look. The corner of her mouth twitched downward and she tugged the hem of her amber day robes away from her neck, suddenly feeling as though it were suffocating her. She stared up at the compartments filled to the brim with cheering students, and the light reflected off the scarlet and into her eyes, like it was challenging her bravery. At the thought, Elle set her chin up defiantly.

The voice of her Gran brought her out of her anxiety. "Did you remember to pack all of your school books and uniform in your trunk?"

Elle patted the blue and gold trunk that had once been Alice Longbottom's. "I've got it."

The shine in Augusta Longbottom's eyes could have rivaled the Hogwarts Express. "And you didn't purposefully leave anything?"

Her smirk widened when Elle hesitated. "No," she said slowly. "I didn't."

Her pupils dilated, and Augusta decided that she would send Elle whatever she left along with a rather vocal Howler. She almost laughed aloud at the irony. Frank had left his Defense book at home, as he heard of the supposed 'curse' on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, and figured that if he just left it and never told anyone then he wouldn't have to do much work. She had sent him a Howler the first morning that could rival Lucretia Prewett's.

"Alright then," she said. "Everything else can be bought or sent."

Once they found the compartment where her friend, Fay, and another boy was at, Elle let Augusta sweep down and grant her a motherly hug. She burrowed her face deep into the crook of the older woman's long neck, and suppressed a sob. "If you ever need anything," Augusta murmured, "you can go straight to Professor McGonagall or send your Aunt Rosemerta an owl. She's just in Hogsmeade, so she can come in quickly."

Elle smiled at the thought of her aunt. Rosemerta McKinnon née Rookwood was much like her half-sister, Alice. "I know, Gran."

Augusta kissed her forehead and set her granddaughter back down. "Hurry, _cariad_," she whispered. "I'd better go find Neville before he loses his whole cart." Augusta shook her head in a sad, yet fondly manner.

The train whistle echoed down the halls, signaling its departure. Augusta flashed Elle one last white smile before scurrying out back to the platform with the other waving families. She, Fay, and the boy leaned out the window to wave at their respective guardians until they faded from sight.

When the Hogwarts Express left the station behind, the children sat back down and stared at each other. The boy looked interesting with his gravity-defying brown hair and green eyes like sea foam. His sharp features only heightened the strangely curious assemble. Fay hadn't changed much from when Elle had last seen her; the rich chocolate curls were still long and her blue almond eyes still had that chilling look to them that said: No matter how bad you think you are, I am definitely worse.

Elle was the one to break the silence.

"You're the oldest Cornfoot, right?" Fay smacked Elle. She turned to look at her friend, offended. "What did I do?"

Fay huffed and rolled her eyes. Honestly, when people thought _she_ was horrible with manners.

The boy smiled a little. "Yeah, I am," he said. He had a thick Irish accent. "I'm Stephen." He turned to look Fay in the eye. "And _you're_ a Dunbar, am I correct?"

Fay scowled. Elle always had to hear her complain about living with four other siblings, though she honestly couldn't figure out why she hated having a large family so much; Elle would give anything to have her parents back.

"Yes," Fay said shortly. "I'm Fay, the middle child."

Stephen nodded. "My younger sister, Fiona, is friends with your brother, Will."

"_Ever_ so the _charmer_, Will," Fay huffed. Elle snickered.

"I'm Elle Longbottom," she said.

Stephen rises his angular brows and scrutinized Elle. "You smaller than I thought you would be, seeing as pretty much most in the Longbottom family is stilt-legged."

Elle snorted. "Yeah, I'm more like my mum."

Stephen smiled, incling his unruly head. "Alright then."

"So are the Cornfoots still considered 'worthy and of purest blood'?" Elle asked. What had Stephen laughing was that she had said this with the most possible straight face.

He snorted. "Of course we are," he scoffed. "Unless Cordelia Moody and Jason Cornfoot weren't really purebloods then there goes our respect among the other inbred purebloods." He snapped his fingers for effect.

"Naturally," proclaimed Elle dramatically.

Fay raised a brow.

_"Inbred?"_ she echoed incredulously. She could name plenty of purebloods near her age that weren't _'inbred'_ such as Sue Li, the Longbottom and Patil twins, the Weasleys, and herself.

Stephen waved a hand dismissively. "You know, the families with arranged marriages. Like the Malfoys or Blacks."

Before Elle could say something sarcastic to him, someone knocked on the compartment door before sliding it open to let themselves in. The slim girl standing there had thick blonde hair that tumbled around a heart-shaped face and wide brown eyes that took in everything from the emerald hills rolling past the window to the traces of amusement that lingered on their faces. If the blue and brown scarf hanging around her long neck said anything, Elle would guess that she was a Quidditch Windbourne Wasps fan.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" the new girl asked urgently. "I'm trying to hide from my cousin, Zabini, he's getting absolutely _dreadful_, and I don't want to hang around with his little soon-to-be Slytherin friends."

Fay beamed at the girl. _Anyone who hates Slytherins is an instant new best friend to her_, Elle thought.

"Definitely," Elle said. She plucked up her mahogany kneazle, Bastet, from her spot next to Stephen, causing her to screech a meow, and plopped her on her lap. "Better come in quickly if they're right after you."

The blonde closed the door in one swift move and sat next to Stephen, looking relieved. Bastet glared through slitted amber eyes at the girl. "I'm Lavender Brown, by the way."

"And your dame in shining robes is Elle Longbottom," the streaky-haired girl stated, smirking.

"Well then," Lavender said, "this damsel in distress is _very_ thankful to come across a compartment of fellow Slytherin haters."

Fay's maniacal grin now resembled a mini sun. "Fay Dunbar," she said, "fellow Slytherin basher."

"And Stephen Cornfoot," he said, "who really doesn't care."

Elle chuckled. She absolutely _refused_ to giggle like a delicate and fragile little pureblood lady. "You're a first year too, then?"

"Yes, and thank Morganna for that," Lavender giggled. "I suppose the bad thing about this though is that my cousin is also starting this year."

"Damn," Elle said before being promptly smacked by Fay. Elle decided the safe thing to do was to change the subject. "So what House do you want to be in, seeing as we're a 'compartment of fellow Slytherin haters'?"

"Gryffindor," Lavender said immediately, "it's a matter of family pride. At least to my mummy's family, and I like her's much better than my daddy's side."

"My dad was also in Gryffindor," Elle said, "and mum was in Hufflepuff. But I'd rather be in Ravenclaw, because there isn't that much prejudice in that specific House."

"And the fact that pretty much every Ravenclaw is seriously hot," Stephen added, grinning like a loon. Fay raised a brow.

"Maybe Gryffindor," she said, ignoring Stephen's comments on that some Gryffindors were also good looking. "Just any House but Slytherin; I'm terrified of snakes, I don't need to turn into one."

At about five minutes after twelve, the door to the compartment opened again, showing that an elderly witch with a broad dimpled smile was on the other side. She reminded Elle of Mrs. Flume at Honeydukes with her shock of gray hair and her impulse to kiss every child she met on the cheeks. "Anything off the cart, dearies?"

Fay and Elle flew to their feet and almost trampled the poor woman in their haste of getting candies. Elle had bought as many Chocolate Frog's as she could buy. Stephen and Lavender waited impatiently until they were done and each bought a few sandwiches with glasses of Pumpkin Juice.

Elle, Fay, and Stephen, argued over the trading cards that they had received and treated and stole when the others weren't looking. Fay almost threw a fit when she lost her Circe card in the pile of trash at their feet, which she had been looking for for months now. Elle already had most of the cards she had received with the exception of one. She gave a grin and read it slowly.

HERPO THE FOUL

_Herpo the Foul was an Ancient Greek Dark Wizard._  
_He is one of the earliest known Dark Wizards and his_  
_work is still a lasting aspect of dark magic to date. He_  
_is best known as the first wizard to hatch a Basilisk._  
_He is reputed to have invented many vile curses and_  
_was also the first wizard known to successfully create_  
_a Horcrux, perhaps having designed the ritual himself._  
_Accordingly, he must have committed murder to split_  
_his soul. He is one of the earliest known Parselmouths._

"Well isn't that _cheerful_," Lavender said, reading over Elle's shoulder. "You seem like the kind of person to get a Dark wizard card. No offense."

"None taken."

Stephen groaned. "Please don't tell me you've got—"

"Herpo the Foul?" Elle said. "The rare one that people hardly ever see? Yeah, I did."

"You little bi—" Fay was cut off when a boy opened the door.

The boy's brown eyes were misty, and his curly hair hung around his round face. He looked intimidated by the four of them together. He hung his head and attempted to hide behind the curtain of blond curls, which made the brown of his eyes stand out against the shadows of his face. Elle smiled at the familiar person.

"I-I'm sorry," her twin stammered, "but have you seen Lee Jordon's spider at all?" The four shook their heads, and the boy moaned. Neville couldn't believe that Lee and the twins were making _him_ look for _their_ spider. He had enough trouble looking for his _own_ pet. Bastet managed to pull off an exited look.

Lavender looked sympathetically at the Neville. "We'll come to you if we find it...?"

"Neville," he muttered. "Neville Longbottom."

He left.

Lavender turned back to Elle. "So that was your brother?"

"Who in their right mind would bring a spider as a pet?" Stephen sounded almost hysterical. _"Who?!"_

Elle smirked wickedly. "Ohh, is somewon afwaid of a whittle spwider...?" she mock cooed.

Stephen growled at her. "Cut it out," he snapped.

Elle grinned and pretended that two of her fingers were a spider crawling up the wall. _"The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout,"_ she sang in a girlish, high voice.

Stephen made to take a swipe at Elle, but she dodged it and he smacked her upside the head instead. She gasped when her hair all flew over to one side and glared at them through the hairs covering her face. Then it was her time to growl as she threaded her fingers through her hair in an attempt to fix the stubborn curls. Stephen watched her, warily and silent. But satisfied.

_'Witchy hair,'_ that Muggle child William Evans had called her curls. _'Metamorphmagus hair,'_ Gran had called it. It was strange, and at times Elle believed Evans was right. Her hair didn't know what color it wanted or needed to be, so instead, it was all colors. Flaxen blonde with faint tones of tawny, chestnut, auburn, and copper. It was strange, and Gran said it was only because her grandmother, Callidora, was a Black and some of them were known to be Metamorphmaguses, even if in small ways. She guessed that she inherited the gene, but it wasn't strong and Elle couldn't exactly control it.

"I absolutely _love_ your hair, Elle," Lavender awed. She glanced at her own honey locks with self-consciousness.

"Well I absolutely _hate_ my hair," Elle grumbled. "It's so...strange."

"Well, who wants to be normal anyways?" Fay laughed.

"Come here," Lavender ordered. Reluctantly, Elle shifted around as carefully as she could with the kneazle still in her lap until her back was facing Lavender. She felt her gather her hair up to the nape of her neck and she said, "What color hair do you want? Pink, green?"

"Black," Elle said.

"Like your soul?" Fay joked.

"I actually see my soul as more of a mauve," Elle mused. "I dunno. Maybe it's powder blue."

"And watch and learn children," Lavender announced, "as I demonstrate now what this thing you call _'normal'_ is and how it actually likes Elle Longbottom here."

Lavender held her rosewood wand up to where Elle's hair was gathered, but then the compartment door slid open once more—_were people just magically attracted to our apartment?_ she thought—and she was surprised that this time it wasn't Neville or even her cousin, Zabini, who hadn't even bothered to find her yet. The new girl about their age was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone here seen Lee's tarantula?" The girl spoke in a demanding voice. "Apparently, he tried to use the engorgio charm on it and it only ended up escaping. Now it's doubled its size." The corners of her pale mouth tugged up the slightest bit when she thought of the reminder that she was smarter than the third year. Stephen blanched. She had a thick mass of fluffy brown hair that bounced down her straightened shoulders, the heavy fringe was clinging to her dark brown brows.

"No, I'm sorry to say we haven't had the pleasure to see a large tarantula crawling around freely," Elle said to the girl before Fay could give a snapping comment. However, the brunette wasn't listening, she was looking intently at Lavender's wand.

"Are you doing magic? You do know it's against the rules to use magic outside of school?" she asked rudely. She sniffed. "But then again, there _are_ other students that are breaking the rules. If you're determined to get yourself into trouble before the semester even starts, let's see it then." She stepped fully into the compartment and sat down like she's been invited.

"Okay, come right on in," Elle muttered under her breath. "Have some juice and pasties with us."

Lavender scowled at the girl. She made a small stabbing motion with her wand to the girl when she wasn't looking, and quickly turned back around to mutter the Latin words. As said, the curly mass that was once Elle's prismlike hair was now a dark, sleek black.

Fay managed a beaming smile. "Amazing! _Finally_, I can do something with this bird's nest." She tugged on one of her curls and frowned like it had deeply offended her.

Lavender grabbed a pinchful of Elle's hair and pulled on them, making the light reflect off the curls. She flashed Elle a grin. "See? Told you so."

"And I shall never doubt your word again," the owl-like girl proclaimed as seriously as she could.

"What a ridiculous spell!" The new girl said, drawing the attention to her once more. "It's not very useful, isn't it? I, of course, have practiced a few simple spells, but nothing so pointless as that. What could it be of use for anyway? It's simply a magical version of Muggle hair dye; I still don't know why people waste their time on such products. This is the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard, so I'm sorry to tell you that we wouldn't be wasting our time on foolishness like that spell of yours. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

Elle didn't know what to make of this girl, so she just stared incredulously. The others seemed to feel the same way, as Stephen was looking at Hermione Granger like she were one of those complex Muggle puzzles, Fay looked taken aback, and Lavender was tightening her grip on the suddenly vicious looking wand in her whitening hand.

"Things like this aren't 'foolish'," Fay said.

Hermione glared at her. "How so, then?" she asked shrilly.

Stephen spoke quickly, clearly afraid of the conversation leading to an amateurs' duel. "I'm Stephen Cornfoot, by the way."

"Lavender Brown, and I hope you don't forget it."

Stephen jabbed Fay in the ribs sharply, and the other Irish forced herself to cover her yelp of pain. "Fay Dunbar," she grunted. "And you better remember it!" she threatened asLavender had.

"Elle Longbottom," the previously blonde said.

"Really now?" Hermione asked. "Your brother, whom I presume is Neville, is trying to help find Lee's tarantula. I know he lost his toad, too, so he might be having trouble alternating between finding both the pets."

Elle clenched her fists. Her nails dug into her palms, and she felt her shoulders and legs tensing. Anyone who had the audacity to tell out her twin in front of her never spoke to them much again. Those were the kind of times that Gran would look at her with a hint of pride. Elle frowned at the namesake of Helen of Troy's daughter. "I'm glad to know that my twin had succeeded in being a great amusement to you."

Hermione twitch in her seat. Even she realized that she set herself up for this. "So...do any of you know what House you're going to be in? Or want to be? I've been asking the other first years, and they always say they want to be in the House their parents were in, or friends if they're Muggle-born. I hope I'm in Ravenclaw, it seems like the only House that seems neutral. I suggest you lot change soon; I've been speaking with the conductor and he said we'll be stopping soon."

Hermione Granger flounced out of the compartment, her chin as up as it could go and walking with dignified purpose. Elle hoped that chin of her's would smack into some Slytherin in the face hard enough to hurt. For she and her friends amusement and the said Slytherin and Hermione's horror, of course.


End file.
